


summers spent in your light

by ayushi_writes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Kagehina Big Bang 2020, M/M, Pining, Post-Time Skip, and they were friends...., summer hangouts, the karasuno first years mean so much to me, ventures into second and third year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayushi_writes/pseuds/ayushi_writes
Summary: The final scores flash up on the screen.  Kageyama gapes at the cheerfully-blinking animations. “There’s no way you’re that good on your first try.”Hinata grins. “Who said it was my first try?”“You—!”Hinata sticks his tongue out at him as the arcade machine spits out a small stack of tickets.And glancing over, next to their drumset—both of their mouths drop—sits a flushed, triumphant Yachi and a thoroughly-trounced-looking Tsukishima.“Wow, I didn’t realize how easy it is to get the hang of this!” Yachi beams at them as the machine spits out a smallmountainof tickets. Yamaguchi, who has been watching over Tsukishima’s shoulder, muffles his laugh at the petulant look on Tsukishima’s face.~the karasuno first years, who are then second years, and then third years. and, of course, kageyama and hinata, who are... well, kageyama and hinata.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 246
Collections: Kagehina Big Bang 2020





	summers spent in your light

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my fic for the kagehina big bang! 
> 
> much thanks to my lovely talented partner nico ([tumblr](https://reflectagonart.tumblr.com/) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/reflectagon))! it’s been a pleasure to work with you!
> 
> [here is her art based on the fic!!](https://twitter.com/reflectagon/status/1340500410457534466?s=19) please show it some love 
> 
> and a special shoutout to the moderators and other contributors to the bang!!
> 
> enjoy!

Kageyama peers down at the wonderfully artificial blue starting to inch down the wooden stick and towards his fingers. He frowns, lifting the popsicle up to lick away the drops. He doesn't like unpleasant sensations on his fingers.

"We'll get watermelon next time, yeah?" Hinata _bites_ off the top of his blue popsicle like it's nothing.

"If you beat me to the ice cream cart for once." 

"Hey!" Tousled, too-long curls bounce in indignation as he sits up, flinging a hand out to point at the cart. "Today's loss was a fluke!"

Kageyama looks at the jagged edges of their twin popsicles broken apart. He looks at his long fingers. Hinata's wiggly ones.

Some things are nice when they're separate, and some things are so, so much better when they're together.

* * *

The summer heat was tantalizing in June, but it’s stifling in July. Far from wafting through classrooms, tempting students right out of their seats, it tends to stuff itself down their throats, up under shirts and skirts, though Kageyama can’t say he doesn’t envy the breeziness that the girls’ uniforms seem to afford them.

Sweat prickles at his neck, but the discomfort is ignored in favor of the chilled milk carton he’s poking a straw into.

His first sip is immensely pleasing. Kageyama’s lips stretch out into a little smile, straw still clenched between his teeth. Little moments of reprieve from heat and noise, oh, how he treasures them... 

“Jeeez, it’s _hot!”_

Especially because they don’t tend to last.

“I think I’ll melt before my Literature test.” Hinata pauses, turning to Kageyama sitting across the desk. “Actually… Kageyama, lend me your blazer.”

“No.”

“C’mon, I’m doing you a favor! You’re sweating with it on too!”

Kageyama considers this. 

Tsukishima calls from the desk over, “Idiot, you’ll get heatstroke. They send you straight home from school for that.”

“I can bike back! It’ll be extra warm-up for my jumps!”

“But you’ll overheat and fall off your bike and die,” Kageyama supplies.

“Damnit, you’re right…”

“You could try, oh, studying for your Literature test.” Hinata gives Tsukishima a dirty look.

“It’s too late for me now! Only a miracle or Yachi-san could change my course…”

“Yeah, why _are_ you here when Yachi isn’t?”

Hinata side-eyes Kageyama, who does an excellent job of pretending to ignore it.

“Coach banned us from practicing during lunch for two weeks after the Incident.”

“What incident?”

Hinata shifts. “Turns out, the assistant principal’s _assistant_ wears a wig too…”

Yamaguchi can’t hold back his snickers at that. Tsukishima, who probably doesn’t need lunch and subsists entirely off schadenfreude, lights up with an eerie amount of joy.

“The day Karasuno sues two of its own students for defamation… ah, it’ll be like my birthday came early.”

“You guys are jerks,” Kageyama mutters into his carton.

The bell dings, prompting Hinata to shove the last of his lunch into his cheeks and morosely stuff his books into his bag. Kageyama and Yamaguchi follow suit, though sans the fatalistic air.

“Good luck,” Tsukishima offers mockingly.

“You’ll do fine!” Yamaguchi cheers from next to him.

Kageyama arranges his stack of books and food into his bag. “Don’t suck.”

Hinata groans and heads for the door.

Practice is as usual, the team’s necks and jerseys dampening just a little more than the day before, the way they’ve been doing as the temperature climbs higher minute by hour by day. Kageyama drains his water bottle three times until Hinata notices and decides that he has to outdo him, and Kageyama can’t be upstaged at something so simple— 

Practice is long, but the ache of his body afterwards is a welcome burn, even after emerging from the air-conditioned gym to the outdoors. Kageyama holds his hand up, rubbing his fingers as if the humidity in the air is tangible.

It’s extra tangible in the pungence of the club room as the team changes out of their uncomfortably moist practice gear. Hinata is frowning at his kneepads. Kageyama nudges him.

“What, thinking about your face-receive from today?”

He snaps out of his introspection and wrinkles his nose at Kageyama. “Shut up! Hey, Noya-san said I was on the path for _libero reflexes!”_

“Once you actually start using your forearms, he said,” Kageyama adds, grinning smugly as Hinata’s face reddens to almost the same color it was after his “receive.”

“Rude-yama,” he grumbles, pulling his sweat-stained shirt off and exchanging it for a fresh one. “I was _thinking_ about my math homework for tonight. You should try it sometime.”

“Like you know how to do it any better than me.”

They bicker until Kageyama’s finally ready to set off on the relatively short walk back home. He leaves Hinata fiddling with his bike chain behind as he ventures out onto the dim-lit grounds.

The night reeks of baked earth, dampness lingering under his bangs and collar from the humidity.

Kageyama closes his eyes, enjoying the lovely little breeze swirling in front of him, chilling his face. He registers the sound of pounding footsteps in his direction, and turns to catch Yachi frantically waving a hand for his attention.

“Hey! Kageyama! Wait up, I wanted to—” She cuts herself off with a huff, leaning over to catch her breath.

“Stick around outside the club room, alright?”

Kageyama shrugs, turning around and making his way back to the stairs. He’s not in much of a rush—the most pressing activities on his schedule are dinner and… oh, yeah, studying for his upcoming exams. 

If this is volleyball-related, he decides, it takes priority.

Tsukishima is lingering by the door, looking impatient and bored, but that’s his resting face anyway. Yamaguchi’s murmuring something under his breath to him, and perks up when he sees Kageyama, hand lifting in a little wave despite having seen him less than three minutes ago. Kageyama doesn’t mind that, though. He nods back.

And of course, Hinata’s bouncing on his heels a few feet away from them, like he’s allergic to being still. Yachi’s fiddling with the strap of her backpack next to him. She shakes herself a little and steps forward when he reaches the group.

“Hey, everyone! So, I know you must be wondering why I asked you all here…”

Yachi has a habit of pressing her lips together in those barely-contained bright-eyed smiles. Kageyama likes seeing it, because it’s a cue card for her excitement. 

Hinata does the same, sometimes. It makes Kageyama’s brow furrow a little when he does. 

“I was thinking—we each have some of each other’s numbers—we should make a groupchat! It’s—I want to see you out of school, too!”

“But we have training activities outside of school,” Kageyama says. “So we see each other on vacations, anyway.”

She wilts a little. He meant it as—a reassuring reminder, not…

Hinata elbows him. “But, you’re right, that’s still sort of school related.”

She puffs up again, the wind back in her sails. “Right! So, I have almost everyone’s contact, I think!” Whipping out her phone, she taps and scrolls, puffing out her cheeks as she examines the screen.

“Oh, I don’t have Tsukishima’s…” She glances at him, a little tentative, though they’ve certainly come far from his sheer height intimidating her out of talking to him. His mouth pinches a little in his characteristic “neutral with a hint of disgust,” which is just poorly hidden tolerance and even—perhaps—incremental positive emotion towards his teammates. 

“I’m not giving it out so the idiot brigade can ring me up at all hours—”

“I’ll add him!” Yamaguchi interrupts, nearly beside himself as he pulls out his phone too. “This is a great idea, Yachi!” 

“You think?”

“Yes! I’ve never—well, I mean, high school brings about so many new experiences!”

Whatever about this that Yamaguchi has “never” experienced, Kageyama is almost certain he hasn’t either. He’s never minded missing out on extra social activities much, he’s sure. He thinks. He didn’t… right?

Everyone’s phone buzzes a few moments later. “Okay, we’re all added!” Yachi waves her phone in the air. "Everyone should say their names so we know who's who."

She tucks the rest of her things into her bag and waves. "That's pretty much all I had for you guys, see you!" 

The group disperses, Kageyama setting his sights on the walk home once again, when Hinata elbows him. "Hey, gimme more of those sets you were trying with Tanaka-san tomorrow. I wanna be all _gwah_ razor sharp cut shots!"

"I don't think you smacking yourself with the antenna is gonna do us any favors to get to Nationals," Kageyama shoots back.

"That was one time!"

The ensuing argument carries them to their usual parting of ways, and Hinata hollers back at him one last time after they're twenty feet apart.

"See ya over break! I'll keep bugging you 'til you set them to me!"

 _I'm used to you bugging_ _me,_ Kageyama thinks, but he doesn't say it out loud because it has none of the bite he thought it'd have. 

Which—why? Why doesn't he mind it? Why is he _used_ to it, free of the annoyance that he thought was ever-present?

Kageyama’s thoughts carry him all the way to his front door, kicking off his shoes and lining them up at the entryway.

Hinata has a way of squirming his way into places he doesn't belong, Kageyama thinks. And he's obviously wiggled his way into Kageyama's grudging tolerance and partnership. Somehow.

* * *

Their first official groupchat-sponsored gathering is at an arcade a ways into town, at Yachi’s suggestion. 

She smiles up at the neon signs as they make their way in. “All this competitive spirit, I’m sure it’ll go well, huh?” she remarks to Kageyama.

Kageyama nods distractedly, eyes already fixating on one of the claw machines—more specifically, the Vabo-chan trinkets and plushies piled up within.

After filling their pockets with tokens, the five turn to face the room filled to the brim with bright lights, pixelated bleeps, and milling gamers, from casuals to the kinds of people who clearly spend at least 60% of their lives here.

“Aw, man! This machine _blows.”_ A girl sinks down in her seat, her friend patting her shoulder as SECOND PLACE flashes up on her screen. Ranking her on the machine’s leaderboard of _everyone who’s ever played_.

Kageyama ups that estimate to 80%.

Hinata and Yachi make for the skee ball machines immediately. Tsukishima slumps his shoulders, doing a poor job of looking like he’s uninterested as he follows suit. Yamaguchi dithers, looking between him and Kageyama.

He motions towards the machine. “I’ll… uh… try that one first,” he says noncommittally, trying not to sound too excited. 

“Ooh, I’ll try with you!” Yamaguchi falls into step with him for the short distance there. “My little cousin loves these,” he remarks. 

Kageyama feels a little embarrassed at the fact that he wants a plushie for _himself,_ but not enough to stop him from sliding a few coins into the machine.

Locking onto the plushie dangling on a keychain, he maneuvers the claw just so to hover above it, almost pressing his nose against the plastic walls of the machine with how intently he's leaning forward. He presses the button for it to descend, and— 

“Ohh, just missed him,” Yamaguchi comments sympathetically. “Another go?”

“You can try,” Kageyama says stiffly.

The plushies are easier for the claw to grasp, obviously, so he has no reason to feel sulky at Yamaguchi getting _his_ pick on the first try.

Kageyama keeps trying, but the little chain keeps slipping out of his—well, the claw's—grasp.

"They should refill the machine, this is sparse pickings in the first place." Now Yamaguchi's the one nearly pressing his nose against the machine. "They can't just have, like, _two_ keychains available among all this other stuff, of course they'll fall into the cracks and no one'll get them "

Stepping back, Kageyama takes a deep breath and tamps down his frustration. These games are all rigged anyway, right? He had seen an article about that once, and then promptly ignored it in favor of a feel-good cat rescue story. 

"I'll give it another go," he mumbles. "You don't have to, uh…"

"You can do it!" Yamaguchi cheers, oblivious to his embarrassment.

When his try leaves him empty-handed again, Kageyama steps back with a huff. Yamaguchi fiddles with the controls for a bit, the claw drops down...

A round pink ball, arms and legs poking out cheerfully, clatters down the chute and into Yamaguchi's waiting hands. He picks it up by the chain and dangles it back and forth. He's not mocking Kageyama, but it _feels_ like he is...

"Nice job," Kageyama says, trying to resign himself to this reality where he's so easily defeated by probably-rigged arcade games.

"There's still another one! It's not like anyone else is waiting on us," Yamaguchi says, somewhat consolingly. Kageyama looks around, and catches a flash of bright orange across the room.

They both watch for a few seconds as Hinata hammers away at a herd of plastic crocodiles with his mallet. 

"He's probably making more noise than the actual machine," Kageyama mutters.

A little soft ball is dropped into his hand. He looks up.

"You know, my little cousin's kind of a jerk," Yamaguchi says, smiling a little. "I think he'll be fine with just the plushie."

Kageyama tucks Vabo-chan into his pocket and a tentative smile into the corners of his lips.

After catching up with some of the others, they head towards an as-of-yet unexplored corner of the arcade. Yachi and Yamaguchi occupy themselves with an intense match of air hockey, Hinata hopping around their table and seemingly conflicted on who to cheer for. He settles for ping-ponging between the two and offering what Kageyama thinks are probably entirely unhelpful pointers.

"Ha!" Yachi crows after an intricate series of maneuvers that send the puck careening through a gap in Yamaguchi's defense, and then looks a little embarrassed. "Uh, I mean…"

"That was so _cool!_ " Hinata bounces up on the balls of his feet. "Yachi-san, if our school had a hockey team you'd be the ace!"

Her eyes get a little shiny. "You think?"

"Yeah! Well, maybe not in your first year unless you're way _way_ better than your senpais, but I think you can always…" 

Something in Kageyama's chest clenches a little at Hinata's too-loud babbling and Yachi's just-as-loud returns. They're really two peas in a pod, sometimes.

It's probably because the idea of their school having a hockey rink is dumb and not plausible, and nothing to do with the traitorously fond feeling unfurling in his gut, the way his eyes track Hinata's wild hands and cartoonish expressions.

They mill around the arcade, two or three of them at a time being pulled over to a machine with a new brand of flashing lights and pop songs.

Tsukishima ends up getting extremely invested in a restaurant simulator-type game, as much as he feigns disinterest while playing it.

"Table 6, Table 6, you've had them waiting for so long steam's coming out of their ears!"

"Shut up, Yamaguchi, _I'm_ the one playing—"

"That yakitori looks good... I'm hungry."

"Yeah, we should get some after this. Tsukishima, your treat since you made us all hungry!”

“Luckily, in _real_ life I can refuse service,” he snipes back, but his heart’s clearly not in the comeback as he leans closer to the screen, his button-jabbing getting even more intense.

It culminates in a series of bleeps, bloops, and an A ranking.

“S’not an S rank,” Kageyama comments. Tsukishima sniffs and ignores him.

Soon after,, Yachi lights up at a line of drums and screens a little ways away. “Look! Like Saeko-san plays!” 

Hinata cheers. “Let’s go! Kageyama, bet you don’t have rhythm to save your life!”

Kageyama bristles at the challenge and beelines towards the game, Hinata and Yachi in tow.

Once they settle at a set of drums, Hinata does his shitty little smirk at him. “How hard you willing to go?”

Kageyama returns it. “Whenever _you_ have to call it quits.”

The little animations scurry across the screen quickly, but Kageyama isn’t unused to tracking with his eyes and coordinating with his hands, so he does surprisingly well on the easier-to-medium rounds. When he starts faltering, his eyes dart to Hinata’s drumsticks, which are nearly vibrating on the panel, very closely following the rhythm.

“How’s someone as sucky as you have so much hand-eye coordination?” he grumbles, uncaring if he’s heard or not. Hinata puffs up indignantly.

“Baka-yama! I don’t suck!”

He supposes, grudgingly, Hinata’s reflexes are kind of scarily quick… but his own aren’t anything to sneeze at. Kageyama resumes drumming with renewed resolve to beat Hinata's ass.

The final scores flash up on the screen. He gapes at the cheerfully-blinking animations. “There’s no way you’re that good on your first try.”

Hinata grins. “Who said it was my first try?”

“You—!” 

Hinata sticks his tongue out at him as the machine spits out a small stack of tickets. 

And glancing over, next to their drumset—both of their mouths drop—sits a flushed, triumphant Yachi and a thoroughly-trounced-looking Tsukishima. 

“Wow, I didn’t realize how easy it is to get the hang of this!” Yachi beams at them as the machine spits out a small _mountain_ of tickets. Yamaguchi, who has been watching over Tsukishima’s shoulder, muffles his laugh at the petulant look on Tsukishima’s face.

“Least tickets has to buy lunch!”

Kageyama grins in the way he’s been told makes him look “evil” when they all finish counting up their tickets, but Hinata’s right there with him as Tsukishima grudgingly acquiesces not to be a sore loser. His agreement is also probably also due to Yamaguchi’s excitement at having tied for most tickets out of the group with Yachi.

Regardless, the yakitori funded from Tsukishima’s wallet tastes extra savory.

* * *

Tsukishima’s leaning against one of the train station pillars when Kageyama spots him, scrolling through something or another on his phone. He doesn’t bother to call out as he gets closer, simply stopping in front of Tsukishima. He glances up and shifts one side of his headphones ever so slightly.

“You’re mighty punctual. King’s breakfast was bright and early?”

“I don’t see how you find a way to make fun of me for being on time.”

“Oh, my teammates always inspire me to push past boundaries.”

“Even nice things sound jerkish coming from you,” Kageyama informs him, blandly.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes and returns his attention to his phone, moving his headphones back into place. 

“Hey, I got here first!” Hinata proclaims, jogging up right at Kageyama’s heels.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Tied with you.

“No!” 

“Morons, I can resolve this.” Tsukishima pauses. “I was here first, which is all that matters.”

Before Kageyama and Hinata can leap at him, public platform be damned, another member of their entourage makes his appearance.

“Sorry I’m late!” Yamaguchi’s only huffing a little as he weaves around the passerby to where they’re congregated. 

Kageyama greets him normally, with a small nod and a stiff wave. Hinata does not.

“Woaahhh, you’ve gotten so many more freckles! Probably all the sun. right?” He doesn’t hesitate to tug at Yamaguchi’s sleeve, peering and poking at the marks dotted across his face, neck, arms. “I just get real tanned.”

“Yeah, they’re… yeah. A lot.” Yamaguchi laughs a little, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Too many, I think.”

“No way!”

Tsukishima’s eyes are narrow, glancing at Yamaguchi for a millisecond before darting to his phone. Kageyama doesn’t pay it much mind—Tsukishima’s behavior at most points can be best explained as “he’s just _like_ that.” 

“He always gets more freckles in the summer. That’s how skin _works,”_ he huffs, and if Kageyama didn’t know better it’d sound like _I know more about Yamaguchi than you, nyeh heh._ “They look… good,” he mumbles to Yamaguchi, eyes cutting to him again and back to the screen.

The wattage of Yamaguchi’s smile could power all of Miyagi, and probably the next prefecture over. “Thanks, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima looks away and clears his throat. "Any updates from Yachi?"

Hinata waves his phone in the air, which he _better_ have a tight grip on if he doesn't want to fling it into the path of the next train. "She got caught up in something, but she shouldn't be long! She texted me!"

Hinata’s looking a little tanned, Kageyama thinks. Strips of lighter skin peek out from under his shirt as he shifts and bounces. He wonders how far up they continue, puzzle pieces matching his school uniform and trademark size-small t-shirts from practice and… whatever else he wears during the summer.

The breeze from the last incoming train must have faded away, as his neck feels too warm at the thought.

Finally, Yachi arrives, scrambling with her bag and her phone. Some of her hair is sticking to her forehead with sweat, but most of it is sitting prettily in a cascading sort of half-ponytail. Miwa would know how to do it. 

“I’m _so_ sorry, my mom and—I had to run her laptop over to the other station and—”

“It’s okay!” Hinata says brightly. “Nice dress, Yachi-san!”

"We've still got a couple minutes before the train," Kageyama says quietly, hopefully reassuring her.

Soon enough, the train comes barrelling into the station, the wind ruffling everyone’s hair and lifting the hems of skirts and shirts. Kageyama’s eyes, unbidden, drift over to the patch of Hinata’s skin that’s revealed by it.

The group files onto the train, jostling each other as they shuffle around for an empty space. Yamaguchi graciously volunteers to stand when they can only find three empty seats, and Tsukishima huffs out some excuse about how he'd rather cling to the rail than cram himself into a seat with no legroom as he joins him.

For someone who doesn't mince words with others, Tsukishima sure has a lot to say about why he absolutely _must_ stick as close to Yamaguchi as possible for entirely logical and self-serving reasons.

"Should we check out the Skytree?" Hinata wonders aloud.

"We're pooling for the round trip tickets and we'll need enough left over for food," Yamaguchi says, wrinkling his brow. "I think Skytree tickets are a bit out of our price range."

“We could mug someone,” Tsukishima suggests offhandedly. He looks up from his phone at the utter silence that ensues. “That was a _joke.”_

“Jokes don’t quite land as _jokes_ when you say them like that…” Yachi says, glancing at him nervously.

The two hours on the train pass in a similar manner of idle conversation. Yamaguchi wonders aloud at the possibility of running into someone from Nekoma or Fukurodani in the city.

“Which captain would make a better tour guide?”

They all consider the matter, and come to a unanimous decision. “Neither.”

Luckily, Yachi's not as unfamiliar with the city as the rest of them. "I've tagged along on a couple of my mom's business trips into the city," she explains, plucking a brochure from her bag. "I used to read these all the time for fun!"

The great exodus off the train nearly sweeps the group away from each other, but Kageyama and Tsukishima are useful enough as lighthouses of sorts to keep everyone from being separated. They properly regroup in a clearer area a little ways off from the station.

“We should look around for the nearest bus stop, if we want to get anywhere,” Kageyama suggests. Tsukishima and Hinata join him as they make their way closer to the busy streets. Yamaguchi hangs back with Yachi to grab drinks from a vending machine.

“Maybe we could try the photobooths.” Hinata points at one a couple of feet away from where they’re standing.

Tsukishima snorts. “Those are dumb.”

Yamaguchi catches up to them, eyes sparkling. "Guys, did you see the booths? We've _gotta_ do one, everyone does them!” 

“Well, they are right there,” Tsukishima says agreeably. Hinata’s jaw drops. 

“Hey, what—”

“Let’s get going, then!” Yachi says briskly, sweeping everyone into a booth. This is easier said than done, given that their party consists of several high schoolers, at least three of which are above the height of the average Japanese male. 

“Stop poking me!”

“Your knee hit mine first!”

“Tsukki, you’re closest! Pick something!”

The filter Tsukishima dispassionately pokes at widens everyone’s eyes to an absurd degree and colors a blush onto their cheeks. 

“Hey, maybe you’ll look less scary like this, Ka—” Hinata stops once he catches sight of the screen. “Nevermind.” 

“Shut up!”

“I look like a shoujo manga character.” Yachi laughs. “So do you, Yamaguchi!”

“Do I?” Yamaguchi’s attempt to get a better look at the screen results in an elbow digging into Tsukishima’s side. “Oh, sorry Tsu—”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.” 

Once they’ve thankfully squeezed out of the box and grabbed their photo strips, Kageyama squints at his souvenir. 

“You look like a fish with that filter,” he says to Hinata, who punches him in the side.

“Where to next?” Yachi says, cutting off whatever they’re about to start.

Upon Hinata's loud (and Kageyama's slightly less loud but no less zealous) insistence, they take a bus ride over to Tokyo Metropolitan Stadium.

"Wooooaahhh, we're gonna _play here?”_

"We haven't played the determining matches yet," Tsukishima cuts in, but even he doesn't sound as derisive as usual as the gym looms above them.

“We’re _gonna_ play here.” Yamaguchi’s voice, hard with determination, comes as a little bit of a surprise, but Kageyama nods in agreement.

After stopping for some crepes, the group ambles around the streets, pointing out the various eye-catching city sights to each other. Hinata in particular points out a brook running through the kid’s park across the street.

“We should go in!”

“I know they’re all about eye level with you, so you can’t tell the difference, but that’s for children to play in,” Tsukishima comments dryly. Hinata narrows his eyes at him. 

Yamaguchi speaks up, only a little tentatively, “It… looks refreshing…”

Kageyama almost laughs at the look on Tsukishima’s face: a mixture of betrayal and resignation. “Fine,” he grumbles, slouching. “But I’m not getting in a splash competition with any of you.”

“Because you’ll lose,” Kageyama snipes, earning himself an elbow to the ribs. 

After paying admission (and getting side-eyed by their ticket handler), they make their way further down the shallow brook, finding some clear water and space to put down their things. Yachi fans herself with the sheaf of brochures they’d all been handed.

“Going for a dip _does_ sound wonderful right now…”

Hinata’s already divesting himself of his shoes and socks, unceremoniously thunking his bag down next to them.

“Hm, it’s a little deeper here. I’d be up to my waist,” Yamaguchi notes, sitting down to pull off his shoes too.

Kageyama opens his mouth, but Tsukishima beats him to it. “Wow, Hinata’ll drown. Do they offer water wings here?”

“I don’t care what crap you’re talking, I’m going in!” Hinata takes a few running steps, and for a bizarre second Kageyama imagines he’s going for one of his flying jumps, soaring above the water and away from the brook.

_SPLASH!_

There’s really not that deep to go, but he lets himself sink up to his chin, sighing loudly. “Aaaah, you guys have gotta get in here!”

Yamaguchi eagerly follows suit, splashing over to Hinata. Both standing, the water laps higher at Hinata’s torso than Yamaguchi’s.

“Tsukki, it feels great in here!” Yamaguchi coaxes as Yachi pulls off her shoes to join them.

“I’ll… come in later. Maybe,” Tsukishima mumbles. Kageyama wonders why he sounds so subdued all of a sudden.

“You look really red. If you stay out here you might get heatstroke and die.”

“Shut up.” Tsukishima cuts a glance at Yamaguchi’s soaked form and immediately buries himself in a brochure that he’s definitely already read, Kageyama saw him flip through it earlier.

Kageyama decides he’s not going to be a coward like Tsukishima and peels his socks off to dip in with the others.

The fresh water is nothing short of a blessing on his heated skin. Kageyama fights the urge to dunk his entire head under the water for all of a moment, and then gives in.

“Kageyama, you look like a wet rat!”

Kageyama flips his soggy bangs off his forehead to turn a glare on Hinata. “Yeah, well, you look like a wet… shrimpy rat…” He trails off weakly.

Hinata’s thin white t-shirt makes a, frankly, life-ruining combination with the splashing, _clinging_ water. It’s definitely weird now, Kageyama’s neck feeling warm, because he’s waist-deep in cool water. 

"Ratty-yama!" Hinata laughs, but he's looking at Kageyama oddly. He quickly averts his eyes and decides to heckle Tsukishima for being the odd one out.

“Hey, scared of a little water?”

Tsukishima finally abandons his brochure, rolling his eyes and his pant legs up to dip his feet into the edge of the brook. As far as everyone else is concerned, this is an open invitation to get him as wet as the rest of them.

“Sorry, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi sings, splashing what seems like a small tsunami up at Tsukishima.

The skirt of Yachi’s dress puffs around her in the water, but she doesn’t seem to mind as her and Hinata get into a little wave-making competition. Kageyama sinks down and enjoys the gentle swirl around his body under the water.

After what feels like hours, the five sprawl across the ground, letting the sun bake the water out of their clothes and hair.

“Yachi, you’re the _best_ tour guide,” Hinata declares.

“Wasn’t this your ide—?” 

“The best,” Yamaguchi agrees.

They don’t wait around long enough to be dazzled by Tokyo’s night lights, due to various familial obligations (and restrictions). Piling on the train back home, they’re all worn out from the heat and fun. Hinata’s damp head keeps lolling onto Kageyama’s shoulder and Kageyama, most unfortunately, doesn’t mind at all. 

* * *

Come second year, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi do this weird thing where Tsukishima snorts, or huffs, and somehow that’s a cue card for Yamaguchi to take his hand or lean into him. Kageyama thinks he’ll never really understand the weird little language that they have between them. 

Yachi always has her laptop with her, apparently putting together a portfolio of her graphic design. She always grins wide when Hinata asks to see her notebook of ideas for sketches and layouts. Kageyama likes the scribbly look of the pages, always accompanied by her meticulously neat notes. It reminds him of his volleyball journal. 

“Those look nice,” he comments offhandedly, catching sight of her scribbling on a scrap piece of paper during lunch. “What’re they for?”

“Club poster!” She gestures at the little rectangles filling up the page. “I’m thumbnailing some ideas.”

“You’ll do good, like always.”

He remembers the wobbly grin she’d always return compliments with last year. Her cheeks are still flushed, but her eyes gleam with a different kind of self-affirmation. “Count on it!”

And Hinata… well, Hinata's gone and gotten himself an undercut.

That's not the only notable thing he's done, of course. He's actually officially been invited to the Miyagi Training Camp this year (they've expanded it to include second years), which only makes Tsukishima's eye twitch worsen every time it's brought up.

But for some reason, the loss of the fluffy hairs at the nape of Hinata's neck, the ones that used to catch Kageyama's attention from time to time when standing behind him for serves, it's stayed stuck in his periphery. 

Now the closely-shorn hairs draw his eyes, even more so because Hinata has this annoying habit of rubbing at it. 

"Looks dumb, y'should grow it out," he mutters gruffly, and Hinata laughs and tells him he's just jealous, that they're _senpais_ now, in the same league as Tanaka and Nishinoya, and they've got to look cool for their wide-eyed kouhais.

He retorts that the Miya twins will probably think Hinata's copying their style, which makes him freeze and look appropriately horrified.

Kageyama watches him still, that's something that hasn't changed. His eyes track the strain in Hinata's legs for each jump, the way his elbows lock for each block, and there's definitely more calf and forearm to observe than the wiry first-year Kageyama once knew him to be.

He thinks, sometimes, that the heat in his gaze is returned in Hinata's hungry eyes too. 

* * *

Kageyama is doubtful about the novelty of eating outside with the group—hasn’t that been a staple of almost every week during school?—but Yachi and Hinata insist that it’ll be a ball. Well, the training camp barbeques had been nice, he supposes, but there was also fresh meat involved at the time, so— 

“Hellooooo? Kageyaaamaa—"

He smacks away the annoying waving hand from in front of his eyes. “What.”

“You weren’t listening at all! I asked _what are you bringing to the picnic?_ ” Hinata tucks his thumbs into the loops of his pants. “Natsu’s helping me make mochi this weekend! Don’t tell me you’re not even gonna _try_ to make something that tastes better than what I’m bringing.”

“Idiot, I won’t need to try. I’ll figure out something.”

“Jerk!”

Figuring Out Something turns out to be more daunting than he thought. After several minutes of research and inventory checks of the fridge, he settles on miso soup. 

“Him and his dumb mochi,” he mutters to himself over the steaming pot. 

“What?”

“Nothing, Nee-san.” 

The bus ride and walk to the park is uneventful, until Kageyama catches sight of Yamaguchi toting a large bag and is waved over.

Yamaguchi spreads out a blanket under a tree, setting down containers of takoyaki and accompanying sauce. Yachi and Kageyama show up around the same time, toeing their sneakers off at the edge of it while balancing their respective contributions.

Tsukishima arrives shortly after and drops down a basket of carefully shaped onigiri, pointedly looking away and muttering about his brother getting overly excited when asked for help. 

Hinata brings his collaborative attempt at mochi, and though some are sort of lumpy (which he claims are all Natsu’s attempts) they’re only a little over-sweetened. Kageyama keeps popping them into his mouth.

"More than half of them are uneven, so either you made those or you made your sister do more than half the work," Tsukishima notes. Hinata reddens and glares at him.

Digging into takoyaki and the salad Yachi’s brought finally sells Kageyama on this whole picnic thing. There’s something special about every person’s individual contribution adding up to something so seemingly mundane and wonderfully tangible.

“Y’have shaush on’re mouf,” Hinata teases him, which he has truly no right to do after managing to get soup broth on his _nose._

After the initial gobbling and slurping of the main courses, they lounge around to nibble on the treats and sides. Yachi’s brought her sketchbook and is doing little scribbles of the trees and sky around them, and Hinata peeks over her shoulder every so often to exclaim at how nice they look. 

Kageyama can only manage to rope Yamaguchi and Hinata into tossing around the ball that he's brought, with Yachi well-occupied and Tsukishima laid out on the picnic blanket like it’s his final resting place. However, both the game and Tsukishima's rest don't last as the latter calls Yamaguchi over to the blanket as if for something of utter importance.

It turns out to be a butterfly alighting on top of the flower-patterned bento box for the mochi ("It used to be Natsu's…"). Hinata rushes over to join them in ooh-ing and ahh-ing while Yachi frantically starts trying to capture it on her sketchbook page. 

The sun and sky are too pleasant to stay unobserved. Kageyama kicks back to cloudgaze with the others while they talk about what they’ve been up to over break, from training camp prep to internships—apparently, Yachi’s been given an opportunity to design layouts for a local magazine. 

“And I’m feeling out a potential manager candidate. I think she’s, uh…” Yachi sounds a tad flustered. “I think she’s really only excited to train for it because of… me…”

“Didn’t the same thing happen with you and Kiyoko-san?” Hinata laughs. “Maybe it’s a Karasuno tradition.” 

“Even with a new team every year, some things don’t change,” Kageyama notes.

Yachi sighs. “Once she comes to more practices, she’ll get the spirit of it, I’m sure! Well, hopefully…” she trails off, taking a speculative bite of her onigiri.

Yamaguchi clears his throat suddenly. “Guys, uh, speaking of. Well, things changing,” he starts, quietly. “Ah… Ennoshita-san said I didn’t have to keep this a secret, but I didn’t know how to say it…”

“Oh, come on.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “It’s news to absolutely no one.”

“What is it, what is it!” Hinata demands more than asks.

“Well… he said that he was considering me for captain next year…”

It’s quiet for a beat, and then it’s crowded with Hinata and Yachi exclaiming.

“Obviously.” Kageyama doesn’t even bother to glance away from the cloud-onigiri-bundle he’s been watching drift over them.

“What do you mean?”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Tsukishima cuts in. “Aside from the fact that no one else in our year is actually qualified—”

“Hey!”

“--The idiot duo aren’t exactly fit to lead, and I… would rather die than talk snotty first years through running drills... you’ve shown an amount of growth that Ennoshita-san would have to be blind to ignore.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes get shiny. “Tsukki…” He swoops down to press a kiss to Tsukishima’s cheek, who flushes and decides that his asymmetrical ball of mochi is suddenly incredibly interesting.

“That’s true!” Hinata chimes in. “You were the coolest pinch server last year!”

“And now you’re one of our most reliable regulars,” Kageyama adds quietly.

“When he talked to me and the advisors about it, we couldn’t agree more,” Yachi says, grinning wide. 

Yamaguchi flusters at their words. “I—I guess, yeah. That’s really kind of you guys to say, um… Thank you. I’ll do my best!”

He casts about for a different person to focus on. “Kageyama! Have you been hearing more from the tournament scouts?”

“Yeah, they’re calling me back to U-19 this year. Some scouts are already making post-grad offers for me to join their teams.” Kageyama shrugs at the thought, though he’s been furiously poring over the various offers and team descriptions for the past few weeks.

“Graduation seems like forever away, but our advisors sure won’t let us forget about it.” Yamaguchi groans. “Cram school this, entrance exams that…” 

“Hinata, what’re you planning?” Yachi inquires.

“I…” Hinata looks uncharacteristically hesitant to say. “I’m not really... planning for any university stuff right now…” Yachi winces, looking contrite.

“Ah, well, that’s a path people take too!” 

“What are you going to do?” Kageyama asks bluntly.

“It’s, uh… still in the works.” He shoots a defiant look at Kageyama. “You’ll know when it’s ready and you’ll be blown away!”

Kageyama matches his look for a moment, and then leans back down to close his eyes. “Okay.” 

The sun turns the insides of his eyelids red, and Kageyama doesn't know if it's minutes or hours that are passing. 

He's startled out of his half-doze by Yamaguchi's phone going off, and the accompanying apology as he's being called home to host some visiting relatives. He offers to leave the picnic blanket with them, but Yachi's publication coordinator is calling her team together for a celebratory dinner on their final day, so she reluctantly takes her leave as well.

After hugging Yachi, Hinata turns to Yamaguchi. “Good luck, captain!” he says, grins and salutes him.

Yamaguchi smiles as he waves goodbye, still a little shy at the prospect. “Thanks, everyone!” Tsukishima joins him and claims he's had his fill of non-Yamaguchis, which Kageyama suspects is just to save face from the mortification of enjoying time with his classmates.

Baskets empty and bellies full, Kageyama and Hinata take to wandering around the park. The trees rustle over their heads, catching them in little snatches of shade from the sunlight.

Kageyama hasn’t been around this park much before. The dapples of light dropping on Hinata's hair and shoulders, absurdly, make him want to lean over and brush them off, as if they’re tangible.

Their footsteps lead them to a modestly grand fountain. The light is refracted even more oddly with the combination of water and shiny coins. Hinata nods at it.

“Let’s wade.”

“For the coins?”

“No! We’ll ruin the wishes on them then!” Hinata sounds genuinely affronted at the thought. "Just… c'mon!"

Hinata pulls off his shoes and socks, rolling up his shorts to halfway up his thighs. Tan lines wrap around his legs and Kageyama can’t manage to pull his gaze away from those stupid, biking-running-jumping muscles.

“You coming?”

Kageyama follows suit, and soon they’re tromping around in the fountain, sending coins skittering with each step.

"D'you think this is what rich people do? Just stomp around in their own money?"

"Maybe.”

Hinata perks up at the tinny music drifting from the street. “Hey, ice cream before we head back!”

Kageyama once again wonders at the amount of food Hinata manages to stuff into his short frame. Well, he thinks, cutting a glance at those tanned calves and thighs, he supposes it’s all going _somewhere._

"Any money on you?"

He pats at his pockets. "Yeah… probably not much, though…"

They both glance at the fountain floor, littered with coins.

“No, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah.”

They rummage around in their pockets and come up with a whopping five hundred yen.

"We'll get something small," Hinata declares, and then hops out of the fountain to take off down the path to the road, leaving his shoes and socks behind.

"Hey—dumbass!" Kageyama takes off after him.

When he reaches the truck (right on Hinata’s heels, might he add), Hinata’s poking his finger at one of the cheapest options. 

“Jerk, don’t run off with our money like that!”

“I’m making business decisions here!” Hinata continues in a mutter, “Like the fact that we can’t get anything better than the cheapest stuff.”

“Ugh, whatever, just get ‘em.”

They wander back to their thankfully-not-stolen shoes, contentedly licking at their treats, and sit back on the edge of the fountain facing in. Hinata kicks his legs, splashing Kageyama. Kageyama splashes him back.

Hinata, who knows nothing of moderation, has already _bitten_ half of his popsicle off. Kageyama watches in mild horror as he finishes off the second half in another three bites, and spins to toss the stick into a nearby garbage can.

He grins at Kageyama, close-eyed. “Didja see that?”

“Yeah, impressive. I’m sure the basketball team’s clamoring to have you at their tryouts.”

Hinata shudders. “Don’t even joke about that. I think Daichi-san would come back from uni just to kill me.”

“That’d be pretty funny to see.”

“Jerk.” Hinata leans back on his hands, still facing the opposite way on the fountain ledge, and cocks his head at Kageyama. Kageyama’s hand, bringing his popsicle in for another lick, falters and stops, falling to his side.

"Hey, Kageyama." Those intent eyes drift to his mouth. Kageyama licks his lips, all too aware of them.

“Yeah?”

“C’mere.”

And when he says things in that expectant tone— _of course it’ll be there—_ who is Kageyama to say no? 

Hinata’s lips are cold, and they taste like that stupid orange creamsicle that was all Kageyama’s pocket change could buy. He should’ve had more cash on him, but tucking his volleyball under his arm had taken precedence over tucking his wallet into his pockets.

He doesn’t mind too much. Hinata doesn’t either, which is less important, because _Kageyama_ is the one kissing him, so he’d have to deal with a gross aftertaste. Though Hinata’d have that aftertaste all the time, not just when he kissed, but then he’d get some of Kageyama’s probably-nicer taste.

His brain would continue down this path if Hinata’s hands didn’t grasp at the fabric of his shirt—ungracefully, as he does most things—and pull him even closer. Kageyama almost stumbles from the force, but rises—rather, leans down—to the challenge and presses harder into the kiss. 

Finally pulling away for breath, he catches a murmur.

“Kageyama…”

His eyes drift open. “Yeah?”

Hinata’s brow is furrowed in thought. “We should’ve gotten a matcha one and shared.”

Kageyama purses his lips, the intimate atmosphere evaporating as quickly as it was created. Neither seem to care.

“... Yeah, we should’ve.”

* * *

The morning maybe of Tanabata dawns bright and clear, and Kageyama catches both sight of vivid streamers and scent of street food set-ups on his morning jog.

Miwa pulls out a yukata for him, a hand-me-down from some distant relative, but he doesn’t mind that much. What he does mind is his struggle with tying the sash not too tight or loose, until Miwa finally rolls her eyes and helps him secure it.

The loose fabric swishes against the bare tops of his sandaled feet, as apparently running shoes aren’t appropriate accompanying attire.

He's not complaining about the breeziness, however. Around midday, he sets out to meet up with everyone else. 

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are already waiting at their designated meet-up spot, as Yamaguchi teasingly tries to feed Tsukishima little candies from a bag that he offers to Kageyama as well. Tsukishima looks pained, but mostly at the fact that he’s flustered and enjoying it. Kageyama shuffles awkwardly as he waits for Yachi and Hinata, who finally show up in their own flowing robes.

“Tanaka-san mentioned Saeko-san’s group is performing today!” Yachi exclaims, standing on her tiptoes to try and catch sight of the stage setup far from where they are.

Tsukishima still stands just as close as he always has to Yamaguchi, but the way he leans into his space is definitely… different, from before. Kageyama thinks about it, the way they’re pretty close in height, so Kageyama would probably have to lean down further… 

As they make their way to the field, stopping to buy some more snacks along the way, Kageyama and Hinata walk close together, jostling each other on occasion, but the brushes of their fingers are hidden amongst the folds of their loose sleeves. Somehow it becomes a competition, to linger the longest and then pull away. 

When they finally reach the rows of seats and a surprisingly massive stage, the taiko drum team is already setting up. Hinata and Yachi can’t hold back their sounds of awe.

Unfortunately, they’re stuck pretty far back. Hinata’s hopping up and down to catch a better glimpse of the performers and Kageyama catches his sleeve. “Stay down, dumbass, let’s just move closer to the stage.”

Saeko’s ferocious calls and powerful drum beats keep them all captivated for the full length of the performance. Yachi especially looks starry-eyed.

“She’s so…” She sighs dreamily. 

“Yeah,” Yamaguchi agrees. 

They stick around to watch the performances for a while, but Hinata and Yachi can only strain their necks for so long. “Maybe next time we should invest in some stepladders,” Tsukishima says as they head out.

Yachi grins. “So you want there to be a next time, huh? You’re having fun with us?”

Tsukishima makes a strangled noise. Yachi beams. 

The sky darkens, but the lamps and colorful lights around them seem to grow even brighter in contrast. Deciding to explore what else the town’s set up, they crowd back onto the streets.

Another few minutes of their little lingering-touch game and Kageyama feels like his skin is buzzing too loud to think properly. While the other three are off admiring and taking pictures of the lavish decorations, he pulls Hinata to the side.

“Hey. Hey, Hinata.” He must sound serious, because Hinata gives him those wide, inquisitive eyes and follows him to a quiet corner tucked behind a booth.

“What?”

“The other day. By the… fountain.”

“Did you like it?” Hinata grins, impish. “Y’seemed to.”

“I—uh—” Kageyama says too quickly, as if he’s about to disagree. Hinata looks a little concerned now. “That is…” 

Kageyama pinches his lips, frustrated at how it won’t come out _right._

"That was. I want to keep doing it."

The line between Hinata’s brows disappears. “Man, you’re bad at this. Good thing I want to keep doing it too.”

“You suck at this too!”

“Bet I don’t.”

Kageyama’s acquiescence may well have been him letting a beast loose from its cage. Hinata keeps nudging him, grinning at him like they have a secret, tugging him behind vendors' stalls and oversized decorations to press kisses to his mouth, like an absolute fiend.

(Maybe Kageyama's stealing his own share of pecks too, but it's the principle of the thing.)

While they’re catching up to the others, a gaggle of loud aunties are headed their way. He curls a hand around Hinata's shoulder, ostensibly to steer him clear of the crowd, but he doesn't want to let go. 

And, he realizes, he doesn’t _have_ to. As if testing the waters, Kageyama lets his hand slide down from Hinata’s shoulder to his waist. Hinata, characteristically, responds enthusiastically by tucking himself against Kageyama’s side and catching his hand in between them.

“Okay?”

Kageyama nods as they continue forwards, the act of suppressing the grin tugging at his lips rendering him incapable of anything more to say.

Tsukishima eyes them over his glasses, which has never made sense to Kageyama why people with glasses do that. Doesn’t that make their vision worse? But he still glares back, feeling judged by someone who, currently being wheedled into taking selfies with Yamaguchi, has _less than_ no right to be judging them.

Yachi catches sight of their hands too, and a smile stretches over her takoyaki-stuffed mouth. She nudges Hinata’s shoulder and they both nod at each other in yet another weird language that Kageyama doesn’t know of. He doesn’t care too much.

“Hey, did any of us write wishes of our own yet?” Yamaguchi pipes up. 

“Ooh, let’s!”

“Yes, since Hinata and Kageyama seem to have been cured of their little disappearing acts,” Tsukishima says dryly. He doesn’t even get the dignity of a glare in response, as Hinata bounds forward and pulls Kageyama along towards a booth piled with strings and papers and markers.

Kageyama's still contemplating what to write when Hinata's shoulder bumps his, catching his attention.

“Let’s keep doing this, yeah?" He says it the way he talks about doing more quicks that feel _gwah_ or receives that go _bam._ And Kageyama always gets what he means.

The noises of the festival swirl loud and indistinguishable around them, and the lights reflecting in Hinata’s eyes make the pit of Kageyama’s stomach burn hotter than any of the igniting fireworks around them.

"Yeah," he mumbles, shoving his shoulder back and leaning his head further down to meet Hinata's mouth with his own, still clumsy and not entirely sure where to put his teeth.

Neither of them seem to mind, though.

* * *

Kageyama’s phone contact list is filling up faster than it ever has during his entire school career as professional volleyball team scouts seem to materialize around him, shake his hand, slide over business cards and “Call me”s and entire worlds of opportunity right at his fingertips.

He still clips his fingernails meticulously, but now they’re holding cream-colored cardstock and tapping open emails and sliding open letters and the world feels so much larger, as if what he thought was the unreachable sky is getting closer to his hands by the second.

Kageyama’s still got his feet on the ground, though. He’s got a new batch of first years, he’s got his now third-year teammates, and... he’s still got Hinata.

They're partners, is all. The matter doesn't seem to entail any more consideration from the two on either side. 

Hinata’s fond of grabbing onto Kageyama, with his fingers, by hooking an elbow or an ankle around him, as if pressing their bodies together is something essential. Kageyama doesn’t mind. In fact, he doesn’t mind so much that he gives as good as he gets with greedy little kisses and stolen moments between classes.

Yamaguchi stands tall as captain, and Kageyama’s proud to stand (taller) by him. Tsukishima stands next to them, perhaps less honorably, as the smirky senpai who convinces the first-years to do his menial tasks for him.

Yachi’s got a feisty little successor, who blushes at Yachi and scowls at the boys she’s annoyed with, but is picking up on the nuances of manager’s duties slowly but steadily.

Hinata’s hair is too long, and his shoulders are too wide, and his digs are too clean. Kageyama’s well-past the point of struggling with complimenting his receives, because he’s had far too much practice in saying it. 

* * *

Of course they both find their way to the gym, when all the graduation festivities die down. 

Kageyama bumps Hinata’s shoulder as they walk out of the gym together, after cleaning it up like routine has bade them to do for the past three years. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

They make their way out to the warmly lit view of the town below the school’s hill. Dollhouse rooftops and pinch-sized windows glint back at them.

From next to him, Kageyama can hear Hinata heave a sigh. He raises an eyebrow. 

“There’s still more to do, y’know.”

Hinata looks far off west, words hazy, but his eyes are sharper and clearer than ever. The same hunger that Kageyama’s never seen quite fully satisfied burns in them.

“It’s on us, yeah? It’s you’n’me,” Hinata murmurs. “There’s you. ‘N there’s me.”

And Kageyama thinks he likes both ways quite nicely, in one slurred phrase and sitting next to each other in separate sentences. He’s particular about many things. And both are… quite nice.

The moment is broken when Hinata looks at the end of the path, back at him, and Kageyama _knows._

“Race you—”

Their feet pound against the ground, in their sensible shoes left over from the graduation proceedings, and Kageyama can feel a wild grin pulling at his lips at the thrill that still burns through his legs. 

Hinata puts on a final burst of speed and skids to a stop mere microseconds before Kageyama. He shoves him, playful. “Another one to me.”

Kageyama grits his teeth and acquiesces, distracted by the discomfort of his button-down sticking to his skin.

They plop down on the curb, sweaty, each glancing at the other appraisingly. Hinata tugs at his shirt repeatedly to air himself out a little. 

“Your hair’s a mess.”

Hinata’s grin is that nasty teasing one. “Better too much than too little, DIY-Barber-yama.”

“My hair is _fine,”_ he sniffs.

“That’s not what your sister said last time I was over.”

“I can see better now. That’s what matters.”

“I can see, too. My reflection in your forehead.”

“Okay, and all the first years have a crush on you, that’s all the good your dumb hair has done,” Kageyama says, rolling his shoulders out.

Hinata makes a face. “Do they?”

“Even _I_ can tell. They always ask you for help with receives when I’m _right there.”_

“I’m just better at receives.”

“No, that can’t be it.” Kageyama knows that he isn’t so easily provoked now, so Hinata’s response is more than just rising to bait.

Hinata lunges at him, catching their mouths together, and Kageyama can’t do anything but respond in kind. His hands come up to grab at Hinata’s sides, one roving up to ruffle through his hair.

“Your hair isn’t _that_ bad,” he huffs in the tiny space between them as they pause for breath. “But it’s still dumb.”

“Yours is dumber.”

“No, yo—” 

This does not continue, fortunately.

When they finally pull back, panting, Hinata sits back with that wide, satisfied grin, which never fools Kageyama into thinking he’s actually sated.

Kageyama wonders at that look, how he’s seen it only grow sharper and more intense throughout the years. Something a little despairing twists inside him, the thought of _when will I see you again?_

“I’ll be on my way out in a few weeks,” Hinata says quietly.

“You will.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Yeah, you are.” Kageyama doesn’t mean it maliciously, it’s just quite obvious in the set of Hinata’s shoulders.

They’re both silent for a rare moment. Tsukishima would call it eerie, that they’re both somehow not making noise.

“From the ground up,” Hinata says, in that same quiet tone. “That’s how beach volleyball’s gonna train me, Ukai-san said. So I can do everything.”

 _Can’t you already?_ Kageyama thinks. Some days it seems like Hinata’s pushed himself as far as he can in every direction that he can.

And Hinata’s fingers press and tangle with his, stubborn to wind around every digit. Both of their palms are clammy, and Kageyama’s almost tensing his fingers to pull away. It’d be made all too easy, with the sweat-slipperiness between them. 

_Except for this direction..._

“And you, Mister V League!” Hinata points at him with his other hand. “Don’t waste the time you have while _I’m_ working hard.”

“I—I won’t. Obviously.” 

“I’ll get better’n’better, so you better not get terrible before I come back and beat you.”

“As long as you don’t suck _when_ I beat you.”

Hinata knocks their shoulders together, and Kageyama meets his eyes for the vow that it is.

The sun, beginning to dip below the horizon, bears witness to it, paints its testimony in the last strains of golden light, streaking the sky above the eve of every waiting tomorrow.

* * *

_You made it._

Kageyama likes signing autographs for young children, even if their hands are sort of sticky and they tend to drop their pens and markers. Suga-san, at least, is a familiar face and a welcome exception from the sticky hands.

He spots some even more familiar faces, clustered across the net. They’re crowded around Hinata when he approaches, lighting up at the sight of him. Well, Yachi and Yamaguchi do, at least. Tsukishima offers him a raised eyebrow and an approving nod, ever cool and collected.

“I didn’t realize you’d all show up for this,” he greets, somewhat awkwardly.

“Are you kidding?” Yamaguchi bursts out. “That was… that was…!”

Yachi finishes for him, beaming. “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” 

“Hinata, _what_ a debut! What’s all that Ninja Shoyou talk I heard, though?”

Hinata grins. “Long story.”

“Well, we better hear it! We’ve got the whole season!” Yamaguchi exclaims. “We’re going to go see as many of Tsukki’s games as possible, right, Tsukki?”

“Again, you _really_ don’t have to,” Tsukishima says, looking put out.

“No, we will,” Yachi says sunnily.

Kageyama’s heart clenches, suddenly, as he looks down (well, in Tsukishima’s case, _up_ … bastard) at his classmates.

Yachi’s hair, swept back and falling loosely over her shoulders, her eyes pinched up in a wide-open smile, nearly identical to Yamaguchi’s next to her. Hinata’s bright grin, hands gesturing between everyone, Tsukishima’s snigger that isn’t quite snarky enough to be insincere.

Their words trip and stumble over each other, reminiscence and catch-ups and congratulations floating above their heads, all eager to make themselves known.

_Yeah, I’m here now._

* * *

Kageyama takes a deep, refreshing draught of milk, swishing it around in the carton as he lets himself flop down on the couch. 

Rest days for the Japanese National Team are rare and all the more essential for it. 

Well, the concept of “rest” is hard to foist onto the members of the Monster Generation, but Iwaizumi-san’s orders are law. He allows a little leeway, though, for the sake of his players not going stir-crazy with too much relaxation.

But sometimes, “time off” is more welcome than it initially seems. Light pours in generously through the living room, and he drains the rest of his carton to set it down.

Kageyama lets his limbs fall loose, basking in the sun the way Hinata always laughs at him for doing, says he’s like a cat. He doesn’t mind much of anything Hinata calls him these days, not when he still gets those little bouts of happy dizziness at being able to clasp their palms together. 

Speak of the devil, and he bangs around loudly through the door and in the entryway. “I got popsicles!” Hinata announces, as if his presence has somehow still gone unnoticed.

Plastic bags rustle as they're set down, haphazardly if he knows Hinata's grocery shopping habits at all.

“Aw, napping in the sun again?" He can hear the smile in Hinata's voice. "We really should get a cat so you have a buddy."

“Mmmfrgh.”

“You guys would speak the same language.”

After a few more rustles and clanks of things being put away, Hinata plops down across him, fanning his face.

“Plans for the day?”

“Well, Iwaizumi-san said we had to limit ourselves to light activity or else he’d ‘give us a reason for _extended_ treatment from him.’”

Hinata’s got a _look_ in his eye. “Right… I was thinking we could head out to the beach for some casual, _relaxed_ fun. I could give you some pointers, since you’re such a _novice_ at playing on the sand.”

Kageyama wrinkles his nose at him. “I know how sand works.”

“Oh, you think you do. Everyone thinks they do.” Hinata says the second part more to himself, as his presumably-traumatic memories of sandy betrayals flash behind his eyes.

Kageyama returns his previous question with, “Plans for the week?”

“Oh, polish up on my cut shots. The setter’s a real stickler for ‘em.” Kageyama rolls his eyes.

“Sounds like he’s taking his position _seriously.”_

“Plans for the month?” Hinata quips.  
  
“Nothing much. Just the Tokyo Olympics,” he counters, grinning.

“C’mon, a little more enthusiasm! This is why Power Curry stopped sponsoring you.”

Kageyama groans. "Will you ever stop bringing that up?"

"I count it as one of your losses."

In response, Kageyama flops over to further bury himself in the couch.

“C’monn, I was serious about earlier!” At the rustling of Hinata getting off the couch, Kageyama pushes himself back up to watch him.

And is pleasantly surprised at Hinata standing right in front of him, bending down to meet him at eye level. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

The ring on Hinata’s finger brushes across Kageyama’s jaw as he takes his face in his hands, kisses him not quite as hard as he usually does. Kageyama’s hands find purchase on his waist, lovely solid core muscles shifting underneath his palms, and pull him closer.

And just like that, Hinata leans back and straightens up. He crosses the room, tugs a visor he’s had since Brazil over his brow. He turns to Kageyama. “Well? Some _casual, restful_ beach volleyball?” 

The glint in his eyes belies his words. That determination, that little lick of insanity that's never faded in the years since Kageyama first bore witness to it.

Kageyama knows and loves that Hinata’s greedy, has seen how he pushes and takes and holds on to what he wants. He loves even more than Hinata decided to take Kageyama too, so long ago, for them to be quite so taken with each other.

He returns Hinata’s grin. 

“I’m in.”

**Author's Note:**

> whooooweeee i did a lot of research for this fic, both into fictional and non-fictional canon, tried my best to stay true to reality, and sort of sidestepped some bits for the sake of convenience lmao
> 
> for instance, diving back into manga chapters and wiki timelines, spending way too much time on recipe sites putting a menu together for the gang's picnic, and watching various vlogs in japanese arcades and about miyagi history... i know this is just a silly lil fic, but i hope my many tabs of articles and videos contributed to make this fic better and more interesting overall. thanks sm for reading!
> 
> check me out on [tumblr](https://ayushipop.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/ayushipop) if ur into that sort of thing
> 
> please drop a kudos or comment if u enjoyed!!


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